


The Good Predacon

by HeavenSent003, Ruby_Dragonryder



Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: F/M, Predacons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:29:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21749806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeavenSent003/pseuds/HeavenSent003, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruby_Dragonryder/pseuds/Ruby_Dragonryder
Summary: When Optimus Prime storms a Decepticon Warship, he finds a Predacon named Whiteout locked in a cell. Feeling bad for her, he takes her back to base and makes her an official Autobot, but not everyone agrees with the decision. And then, when it turns out she might not be completely a predacon, things start to get strange. But then they begin to wonder... is she really the "sweetheart" they believe her to be? Or is there a more sinister side to the winged fox?
Relationships: Arcee/Cliffjumper (Transformers), Optimus Prime/Whiteout, Ratchet/Gadget
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	1. Discoveries...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! This is a sort of backstory for my OC's Whiteout and Gadget, and my friend's OC Volatile. Before we start, there are a few things you need to know: 
> 
> 1\. Bumblebee's beeping is shown in **bold** so that it is easier to tell that he is talking.  
> 2\. ... I can't think of anything else right now. XD I'll add to this if I think of anything. 
> 
> Anyhoo, ON WITH THE STORY!!! ^^D

**_Time: Sometime in between Season 1 Episode 5 & 7 of Transformers: Prime._ **

**_Setting: _ ** _**Autobot Base, Jasper Nevada** _

* * *

It was supposed to be a normal day at the Autobot base. The humans had just come from school, so they were busy doing homework. The bots were relaxing, while Ratchet, the dear, was working on the console. Everything was as it should be.

Then suddenly, the alarm went off at the main console.

Optimus Prime and Ratchet were the first to the scene.

"Odd," Ratchet muttered, typing furiously to confirm the source of the alarm.

"What is it, Ratchet?" Optimus asked the medic.

"We seem to have a lock on the Nemesis' position at this very moment, but that's impossible! The Nemesis is cloaked 24/7. Must be the faulty Earth technology I have at my disposal. But then again..."

"It's worth a look. Bumblebee?" Optimus turned to the scout. "Would you be willing to scout out the location?"

The scout nodded and took his vehicle mode before zooming through the ground bridge.

Time seemed to stop as everyone awaited the scout's results. Everything was silent.

Then, Bumblebee commed in, beeping the answer to everyone's unspoken question: _Could it be true?_

 **"The Nemesis is here. I repeat, the Nemesis is here,"** Bumblebee told the group. **"Awaiting orders, Optimus. What would you have me do?"**

"Hold your position and wait for back up," Optimus instructed. He then turned to Ratchet. "Would you do the honors?"

"Absolutely," Ratchet answered, grinning. As the three other Autobots drove through the ground bridge, he yelled after them. "Cause some damage for me!"

"Will do!" Bulkhead called back.

Once the three Autobots joined the first at his position, they wasted no time getting onto the Nemesis and causing some havoc. Unfortunately, on their way out, the Vehicons insisted on blocking their exit. With guns. How kind of them.

"Don't these guys realize we're leaving?" Bulkhead asked between Energon blasts.

"Vehicons," Arcee said. "Not the sharpest tools in the shed."

Bumblebee beeped his agreement.

Meanwhile, Optimus surveyed the situation. They were too exposed in this position. Any second now, more Vehicons could come up behind them, trapping the four Autobots in an impossible situation. They'd be massacred!

"We need to move!" Optimus yelled over the gunfire.

"This way!" Bulkhead yelled back. 

"Optimus, I am detecting an Autobot-like life signal to your right," Ratchet said over the coms.

"Autobot life signal?" Optimus asked.

"Very faint, but it's being picked up on our scanners."

"Could be worth the look," Arcee said. "It'd be nice to have another ally."

Optimus thought about that. It had been only a few days since they lost Cliffjumper, so another Autobot would be welcome.

"Very well. Arcee, Bulkhead, Bumblebee, report back to base. I will find the Autobot captive," he ordered as he ran off in the direction Ratchet had indicated.

"You're getting close," Ratchet confirmed as Optimus ran down the halls. "There! On your left, behind that door."

Optimus blew the door off its hinges only to find a scared Cybertronian stand up immediately. 

She looked like a mix of a Cybertronian combined with an Earth Arctic Fox, with canine ears, muzzle, and a long fluffy tail. Attached between her shoulder blades was a pair of wings, and in between them, two thin blades, one silver and blue, the other black and red, were sheathed. Her blue Autobot eyes were ringed by dark silver metal in the shape of eyelashes. But her symbol was different than that of an Autobot, or even a Decepticon. It was something... new.

 _She looks oddly familiar,_ Optimus thought, but he didn't have time to figure out why right then. He needed to get this Cybertronian out of here.

"Who are you?" she asked, fear evidently clear.

"I am Optimus Prime."

"Are you a prisoner? 'Cause if you are, you might as well go back to your cell as there is no way off this ship without guns and wings."

"Who are you and why are you here?"

"I am Whiteout. I refused to help the Decepticons at the start of this war, and have been here ever since."

"How would you like to get out of here?"

She looked at Optimus with the suspicion he might be crazy. _Does he really believe he can get off this ship?_ Then she realized who was talking, remembering something from the distant past. _Oh. It's him!_ She smiled, the grin lighting up her face. "Absolutely."

"Then follow me," Optimus told her, as he turned to leave.

As the duo fought their way to the landing pad of the ship, Optimus with his guns and Whiteout with her claws and the blades strapped to her back, they killed or wounded every Decepticon in their path. When they had reached the roof, they found a ground portal waiting for them. 

"This way!" Optimus yelled.

"Wait! They might track us. You get close to the portal, I'll hold them off."

"But-" Optimus started, but she was already halfway back, running hard.

Then, she did a flip in mid-air, landing on _four_ feet, having transformed into a giant white fox with huge feathered wings. She took a deep breath and shot an ice beam out of her jaws at the Decepticons, causing system failure on contact with their mesh for every Decepticon she hit, then shot a jet of white hot fire at anyone who got too close to her, immediately melting them into a slag heap. 

When she was satisfied they wouldn't be followed, she changed back into a bot and turned around. By the time Whiteout had gotten to Optimus he had finally picked his jaw up off the floor and his eyebrows off the 'ceiling.' 

"After you," she said with a grin.

"This is going to be interesting," Optimus muttered as they walked through the portal.

**He had no idea just how right he was.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think? Intrigued? I hope so. Whiteout is quite the character in my opinion, and next chapter you find out a little more about her and how she is linked to the war. 
> 
> Please comment what you think down below. I love hearing from my readers, and it gives me the confidence to keep writing, so... Yeah. Can't wait to read what you guys write! I will reply to comments. I love talking to my readers.
> 
> Until next time, Whiteout signing off!


	2. Lost & Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. It's a Friday, and I hope to post on Fridays when I can, so here's another chapter. Time to learn a little more about Whiteout and introduce another OC!

**Optimus Prime's P.O.V.**

I walked through the ground bridge expecting everything to go back to what was considered "normal" at an Autobot base, only to find a wrench get in-bedded in the ten-foot-think concrete wall just inches above my head.

"Uh..." I began, not taking my eyes off the wrench that had so quickly turned into a very deadly weapon. "Is everything... alright?"

"What?" Ratchet looked at me, and then at the wrench. "Sorry. I was afraid you might be a Decepticon."

"What did they do to make you so upset?" I asked as I slowly stepped out from under the wrench, suddenly noticing the stab marks in the wall behind Ratchet and the blade that had replaced what normally was Ratchet's right hand and knowing I had to be careful what I said, or I might end up a science experiment _and_ join the Allspark earlier than expected.

"Do you really have to ask?"

"No, but I would like to know so I can explain to the Decepticons why I'm sending the deadliest murderer known to Cybertron through our ground bridge to wipe them all out in one fell swoop."

Ratchet barked a laugh. "Was that a joke, Optimus? Have you finally found your missing sense of humor?"

"Depends on what you call humor. I was completely serious about that."

"Ha ha, funny bot. Any injuries?" Ratchet asked, looking me over for any spilled Energon.

“No,” I replied, “but I did find a new ally.” I stepped aside so Ratchet could see Whiteout. 

“Hello,” Whiteout said sheepishly. “How are you?”

Ratchet stares at her, awestruck. He had never seen anything like her before. “What is your name?”

"Whiteout." She looked at me. “Mind if I give myself a tour?”

"Sure. Just-" I started, but she was already off, bounding down the corridors in fox form. “-be careful.”

"What was that?" Ratchet asked. “I’ve never seen anything like her.”

"I believe that I have, but that was long, long ago in the distant past. She-”

Suddenly, a shriek sounded through the base, and in the distance, the sound of energy blasters charging could be heard clearly as Bulkhead begins to yell.

"Optimus!! There's a giant dog in here!" Bulkhead yelled down the hall.

"So get it out, Bulkhead!" Arcee called back. "What do you mean... Solus Prime, that is a big animal! Jack?"

"Yeah, Arcee?" Jack

"Are Earth dogs supposed to have wings?"

"No, what do you- wow that is a big wolf."

"I'm not a wolf, I am a fox, thank you very much," Whiteout corrected them "And if you must know, I'm with-- ** _PUT THAT GUN DOWN!! YOU'RE GOING TO END UP HURTING SOMEONE!!!!_** " 

Bumblebee's alarmed beeps echoed down the halls.

I sighed, pinching my temples. "I'd better go stop that. Whiteout is an extreme personality."

"You act as if you know her," Ratchet mused with one eyebrow raised.

"I do," I told him as I walked toward the voices. "It's a long story."

"I'll accompany you. I have a feeling this is either going to be messy, or interesting!" Ratchet said, getting up to follow me.

The Ratchet and I walked into a normally empty room to find three Autobots shielding three terrified children, guns aimed at a terrified Whiteout trapped in a corner. When I saw this, I immediately tried to warn the Autobots, but I already knew it would be too late.

For I had finally remembered why Whiteout was so familiar, and the first rule of hanging around her: **Never corner a Predacon.**

Her fur flickered black once, then went full-on dark, tail, wings, and ears tipped blood red. Her normally feathered wings seems to melt and cool at the same time, transforming into bat wings. Her eyes went gold, her inner optics changing to Earth cat pupils, and she bared her razor sharp fangs at the Autobots, who looked at her with wide eyes. They had never seen anything like her.

Whiteout was about to fire one of her two deadly weapons when I jumped in front of her, intervening. "Stop, Whiteout! They do not understand. They have never seen anyone like you before."

Seeing me protecting her oppressors, her colors faded back to their normal white with black and teal-ombre tips, her eyes their traditional Autobot blue, shaking her head to get the blood rage out of her mind. "I'm sorry, Optimus. I don't know what came over me," she said with sincerity in her eyes.

"It's alright, Whiteout. I hadn't told them yet. They don't know."

" _You_ brought her here!?" Bulkhead asked, guns still out and ready.

Turning around to see the situation was about to repeat itself, I told them to put down their weapons, still standing between Whiteout and my team. 

"Yes, I brought her here. She was the Autobot signal that Ratchet picked up on the Nemesis when we went to attack the Decepticon warship.”

"Then maybe we should have left her. She nearly attacked us!" Arcee said, not taking her optics off Whiteout for a second.

"Only in self-defense. You were the one to pull the guns out, not her," I explained, not noticing the expression on my canine friend's face behind me.

"Maybe," she whispered, "I should go until you all calm down. Maybe," she said as she looked up at me, "I can find Megatron for you, Orion. Then we'd be together again, and I bet he'd back me up. Then they'd believe you."

"Whiteout, please stay," I said with sorrow in my eyes. _One of my oldest friends didn't feel safe around my team! What a nightmare!!_ I thought. I had just found her after all those years. I didn't want to lose my only remaining connection to the past _a second time_!

"No, it's better this way. Maybe, when I come back, they'll be a little less scary, and we can all be friends. Yes, I like that idea. Let's do that."

"Whiteout--” I began, but she was already gone.

I sighed and sat down in the main room, head in my hands.

”What’s wrong, Optimus?” Ratchet asked while trying to wrench the wrench-turned-potential-murder-weapon out of the ten-foot-thick solid concrete wall.

”I remembered where I've seen her before. Whiteout was an old friend from Cybertron, from before the war, before I became Optimus Prime,” I told him.

”Who were you before you were Optimus Prime?” Raf asked.

”I was Orion Pax, a simple archivist at the Hall of Iacon. And Whiteout, she was a true warrior. She was placed in the pits of Kaon soon after her... _birth_. She met Megatron in a battle, of which there was a tie, and they soon became fast friends. I met her through him. Whiteout became very protective of us both. It wasn't until much, much later that we found out that she... was a Predacon."

"What's that?" Miko asked, her interest peaked.

"The Predacons were an elder race of Cybertronians. They're extinct now, but in their time, they were the apex predators of Cybertron. They were wiped out by a great cataclysm, but their remains still can be found throughout the surface of Cybertron. Some say that you could potentially bring them back through cloning their CNA, and I believe it. After all, Whiteout exists, doesn't she?"

"I guess. If she's an old friend of yours, why didn't she join the Autobots earlier?"

"Well, first off, she was imprisoned on the Nemesis, which I doubt Megatron knew about. Those two were very close. After she heard him speak to the Primes, it seemed she became even more adamant to be close to him. I believe she stuck with him because she thought she could change him, help him be better, heal his broken spark. You see, Megatron had been a gladiator and miner in the Pits of Kaon for as long as he could remember. It was all he knew. Whiteout was similar. She was only a few months old when she was put into the arena. Second, she disappeared soon after the war began, which leads me to believe that Decepticons tried to get her to join them, but when she inevitably refused, they imprisoned her without Megatron's knowledge."

"What about you? How close was she to you?" Jack asked.

"We were close as well. We especially bonded over stories and legends. Once she found out about books and chronicles, she begged me to teach her to read, and I complied. As soon as she was able to comprehend the markings on the page, she began tearing through everything in the Archives. She probably knows everything there is to know about Cybertronian history, culture, customs, legends, medicine, and engineering. She would be a valuable addition to our team."

"Sounds like it," Arcee said, looking away in shame. "I'm sorry we scared her off."

"What was with the color change?" Bulkhead asked.

 _ **I was wondering about that too. Is it normal for a Predacon to do that? Or is that something only Whiteout does,**_ Bumblebee wondered.

"Shush! All of you! Let the Prime speak before you throw a barrage of questions at him," Ratchet snapped.

"The color and wing change is something that occurs in battle, or when she is nervous or anxious, with Whiteout. It's basically her way of saying, 'Stay back. I'm dangerous,' and it usually works, as no one wants to get near her in that state. Had I not intervened, you all would have been scrap in seconds. As for whether that's normal for all Predacons, I have no idea, as Whiteout is the only Predacon I know. You'd have to ask her yourself."

"That seems to be impossible right now," Jack said, sorrow clear in his voice.

Everyone, although they didn't say it, agreed silently.

Then they sat there.

**_Waiting for her return._ **

* * *

** Whiteout's P.O.V. **

As soon as I left the base, I began to run in no particular direction. I seem to do that a lot.

My earliest memories are of running, chasing, hunting, whether toward something, or away from it. Sometimes, I even run from myself, especially after situations where my colors change. It is at those times that I feel less than "human," as you Earth people would say, and closer to a _beast_.

I began to think back to my beginning. Even my first memories were of hunting, though it was hunting for affection from my “father” and creator, Shockwave, as it was split between me and my “lab mates,” or my siblings, as the humans say. 

The life of a Predacon was simple: listen and do as your told. But as I grew older and learned more about myself and the world, I began to listen less and do more, which annoyed Shockwave to no end. 

Soon, he sent me away to be a gladiator in the pits of Kaon. I was spark broken. The only family I had ever known was taken away, but soon, I was obsessed with the art of the kill. It was an unhealthy obsession, but it filled the hole in my heart. I became their champion!

But then, another came. He was a bit of a rookie, but he was passionate. Soon after his arrival, we were head to head in the pit. Me, with my blades and my colors, he with his. Black on red versus silver on purple. Sparks flew, and ice and fire were everywhere. The crowd loved it! 

But then I backed him into a corner, and, knowing he had no escape, he surrendered.

I stepped back, my colors reverting to their normal hues of turquoise and white. I didn’t know what surrender meant. It was a foreign concept to me. 

“Surrender? What do you mean?” I asked.

He must have seen the puzzled look on my face, because he began to explain. “You are clearly a better warrior than I. I admit defeat to you.”

Defeat was a concept I knew well, but why would you admit it? It made no sense! 

The crowd began to boo the second fighter, telling me to finish him off, but that was not to be. Deep in my spark, I knew I had found someone who deserved to be my equal. I had a new feeling for him, one I had yet to find a name for: respect.

I put my blades away and held out my hand to the fallen warrior.

This confused him. “What are you doing?”

”Well, I doubt you want to die. And besides, I don’t think it’s your time just yet,” I told him with a slight grin.

He smiled back, and as he took my hand, I pulled him up. I turned to the crowd and lifted his hand into the air, and the crowd loved it.

We had many battles together afterward, but what he said after that has always stuck with me:

”I guess that knowing when to give mercy is just as important as knowing when to finish the fight.”

“Yes, I guess so,” I answered, trying to figure out what mercy was. Then it hit me. That was what had happened in that arena. I had shown mercy on him.

”I am Megatronus. May I ask your name?”

”Whiteout. Call me Whiteout,” I told him as I walked toward my berthroom.

That was the day I met Megatron for the first time.

Suddenly, I was jerked back to the present. I had reached a destination, and I loved it:

_I had found an Earth Scrapyard._

You see, once I got out of Kaon, I became a mechanic and inventor. I loved the feeling of figuring out how to put things together again.

I bounded over the fence and changed back into my bot form, digging through piles of scrap metal and broken bits.

”A welder? A buffer? A parallel transducer?! And in good condition! I can’t believe people throw this stuff away!! This is paradise!”

Then I saw the automobile section, and I nearly went into stasis!! 

“All these treasures!! Who would ever throw these away?!” I exclaimed, examining a broken motorcycle. “Don’t you worry, little one,” I told it, “I’ll have you fixed up in a jiff.”

I began looking around for spare parts when a voice came from behind me: 

**"You had better be friendly, or you’re going to learn what metal tastes like."**

* * *

** Optimus Prime’s P.O.V. **

Everything had gotten mostly back to normal back at base:

Ratchet had gotten the wrench out of the wall (with Bulkhead's assistance) and was back to whatever project he had been previously attending to.

Arcee and Jack were off on a drive.

Bulkhead and Miko were in his berthroom, listening to Miko’s music. As much as those two enjoy it, I don’t understand why they like it so much.

Bumblebee was watching Rafael fiddle with his computer, searching for any pictures of Autobots on the Internet.

Meanwhile, I was awaiting my friend's return. I remembered how long Whiteout’s runs were on Cybertron and hoped she was all right and staying away from Decepticons.

Then Ratchet told me an unidentified organic life form was approaching the base. Just as I was about to get up to check the surveillance, Whiteout came charging into Base, a cart full of parts behind her. 

"Predacon coming through!" she yelled as she dashed nimbly through the chaos and toward a room in the back of the base.

I could only stare in wonder and confusion as she ran through the corridor. Then she suddenly made a sharp turn into what I had previously known to be an empty room.

As the other Autobots and I approached the room, we began to hear metallic noises and Whiteout cursing.

"No, no, no! Whiteout, you idiot! The vibration converter has to go under the neural net receivers and transmitters! Otherwise, it’ll just blow up in his face, and that would be the exact opposite impression that you want to give," she scolded herself as she began to assemble something. "And you have to let the metal return to room temperature after freezing the metal into place before you weld it together, Whiteout!! Otherwise, it'll just shatter!!"

”Whiteout?” I asked cautiously, knowing how she tended to be temperamental when she was working on a project, and I was in no hurry to repeat the "wrench incident" from earlier. "Is everything alright? What happened while you were out?"

"Not now, Orion. I trying to make something to make your team trust me more." She began to look around, searching for something. "Now where’s my wrench?"

Ratchet mustered the courage to go into the room. He looked at the miscellaneous parts and tools scattered around the room. "What are you trying to make?" he asked.

"A Cybertronian voice box. I noticed your yellow friend was missing one, and as it’s obvious you guys don’t trust me, I thought that maybe if I could succeed in creating one, you wouldn’t fear me as much," she explained, still searching for her wrench. "Where did I put that tool?" she said, exasperated.

Ratchet was taken aback. This random Cybertronian not only longed for their trust but was observant and knowledgeable enough to attempt to create a replacement for a missing bio-mech! It seemed the old field medic was impressed with my friend and trusted ally.

"Well, let me get my tools and see if I can’t assist you," he offered with a chuckle.

She looked up for the first time since beginning her work at Ratchet, confusion and doubt in her optics, which suddenly flashed gold, but only for a second.

 _What was that about?_ I wondered. I'd have to look through the memories later, but I thought I may have seen that before, long ago...

"...Really? You... want to help me?" Whiteout asked, doubt leaking through every word.

"Sure, if you’ll allow it. I understand not wanting others to mess with your projects, so if you’d rather me leave you alone-"

“Are you _kidding_?! I’d be _**honored**_ if you would assist me!! You’re obviously Ratchet, one of the best field medics out there! You’re one of my idols!!” Whiteout gushed. “I followed your progress throughout the war. You’re a hero!! I’ve always wanted to become as good a medic as you one day! I never _**dreamed**_ I’d get to **_work_** alongside you and the Autobots!”

I barely stifled a chuckle, disguising it as a cough. Meanwhile, Ratchet was stunned. I suppose he never entertained the thought that someone would characterize him a hero for his acts, let alone idolize him. “Uh... thank you, Whiteout. I would love to work with you on this. I am curious to see what you’ve come up with,” he stuttered, not sure how to respond to her fascination with him. “Just a sec. I need to get my tool box.”

He walked out of the room, a huge grin on his face, muttering about Predacons, and I smiled.

"I see you're warming up to Whiteout," I said, a small grin on my face.

"She's..." he began, lost for words, before continuing on, "interesting. I think she’ll fit in just fine."

 _That is all I wish for right now_ , I thought, watching as Ratchet and Whiteout began discussing the potential components of a Cybertronian voice box.

I began to go back to the day I met the shy Predacon, a day lost to the distant past...

_I had happened to be in the market meeting my friend Megatron when I spotted her for the first time. She had been looking through a scavenger’s findings for parts for one of her projects when a thief snuck up on her. I saw this and was about to warn her, but Megatron put a hand on my shoulder. I looked back and he shook his head. "Watch," he told me, so I did._

_The thief began to reach into her bag, when suddenly in the blink of an optic, Whiteout had him pinned to the ground, foot in the small of his back._

_I was stunned. What I had previously judged as a defenseless would-be victim actually revealed herself to be an observant hunter and valiant fighter. She had already earned my interest, but what she did next, hardened it into respect._

_"What are you doing?" she asked the mech. “This isn’t your bag.”_

_”Please!! My family is hungry! We have nothing to eat! I was merely trying to get money to buy more food for my sparklings! I beg of you, please don't hurt me! My sparkmate is alone with them now! Please, for their sake, let me go!” he pleaded desperately._

_Whiteout’s hardened expression didn’t change, but she took her foot off his back. "Get up," she ordered. When he complied, she grabbed his arms and pulled him into an Energon booth._

_He looked at her, waiting for her to call the police._

_”Go on! Get as much as you need,” she told him, her expression emotionless._

_Confusion and doubt brewing in his optics, he hesitated at first, then began grabbing enough Energon to feed his family for a week in his arms. He then looked at her, afraid of what she would do._

_”Hand it over,” she said, arms outstretched._

_When he did, she turned and took it to the purchasing counter, digging through her bag for something. What came out was some money and a rough sack, which she filled with the Energon. She then spoke to the owner, purchasing the Energon, and then gave the sack to the thief along with enough money to buy the same amount of Energon for at least another month._

_The mech looked down at the bag in his arms and the money, surprise, relief, gratitude, and puzzlement rolling across his face. “Why?” he asked._

_”You said your family is hungry and needed fuel,” Whiteout explained. “Hopefully this will last for a little while.”_

_”I-I-I d-d-don’t underst-st-stand.”_

_”What do you not understand?”_

_“Why are you doing this for us? You don’t even know me. I could be lying for all you know.”_

_She shrugged. “That is true. You could be lying,” she allowed, “but that would be on your spark, not mine. I know how important family is to have and care for. Take this, and remember not to take, and maybe you can pass on the kindness to someone else.”_

_”Thank you! Thank you!” he said with tears in his optics. “How can I ever repay you?”_

_“All I ask is that, once you and your family are back on your wheels again, you help those who need it like I did you.”_

_”I am Axel. May I have a name to go with the description of our guardian angel to tell my family?”_

_”Very well. My name is Whiteout,” she told him, taking his hands in hers. “I just want to help.”_

_”Thank you, Whiteout, thank you! Thank you for everything! Thank Primus himself that there are Cybertronians like you in this world!! I wish you good fortune for the rest of your days!” he told her before running off._

_”Oh, and Axel?” she called._

_”Yes, Whiteout?” he answered, turning back towards her._

_”If you ever need anything else, just come find me. My door is always open.”_

_”Bless you, Whiteout! Bless you, forevermore!!” he cried. “I will be sure to remember that!” And at that he ran off, probably to find his family._

_”Who is that?” I asked Megatron. “I’ve never seen her before.”_

_”Who, her? That’s Whiteout. She’s an old friend of mine from Kaon,” he told me._

_”Kaon?!” I exclaimed in disbelief. Kaon was ruthless and vicious, nothing like the kind Cybertronian femme who had just served a father in need._

_”Yep. She was the fiercest of them all, a true warrior.”_

_Processing this, I left Megatron to his shopping and approached her. She had gone back to browsing the parts in the mechanic’s booth._

_”Hello. Whiteout, is it? I’m Orion Pax,” I said introducing myself._

_”Hello, Orion. Yes, I am Whiteout. I see you know Megatron. He’s an old friend of mine,” she said, turning to face me._

_”So I’ve been told.” I paused, trying to figure out how to phrase my query. “Can I ask you something?”_

_”Ask away.”_

_”Why did you help that mech?”_

_This surprised her. “Why do you ask?”_

_”I’m merely curious. If you don’t want to tell me, that is fine as well.”_

_”Alright. I guess there’s no harm in it.”_

_I found this response odd. Why would there be harm in it? I thought. Then I saw Megatron watching. He is probably wondering how we get on._

_She sighed. “I guess... it was the look in his optics. Call me silly and sentimental, but one look into them and I knew he was telling the truth. I may have lost my family long ago, but I remember how much they meant to me, so I knew how much his family must mean to him. I couldn’t bear the thought of him suffering the same fate of losing everyone he cares about, having to go through everything I had to to make himself feel better, to find the light again. It just seemed... wrong, I guess. I don’t really know how to explain it. It was as if there was this voice in the back of my head saying, ‘He could make everything better, if just given the chance. Why don’t you give it to him?’ I have this feeling that he will go on to help people to honor the memory of this one kind act, which will trigger even more. It’s a never-ending loop. I bet one day someone will end up helping me because of what I did for him. Sure, he was a stranger, but everyone has a role to play, a reason they’re here, and if I hadn’t helped him, his sparklings wouldn’t have had the chance to make the world a better place. Everyone, even those who seem evil to the core, deserve a second chance, no matter what it is. I should know, as this,” she said, gesturing to the world around her, “is mine. This is my second chance at life, and I don’t want to waste it on worthless revenge.”_

_I stood there, stunned, unsure of what to think of that. This one femme had more virtue and light and charity than perhaps everyone on this planet combined! She was a miracle sparkling! I wished that I could be more like her. I still do._

_”It’s okay if you don’t get it. What matters is that I’m going to help people, no matter what,” she said defiantly._

_A laugh came from behind me. I turned around to find Megatron walking toward us._

_“That’s my Whiteout. Caring for the whole world,” he said with a big grin, clapping her around the shoulders. Whiteout smiled up at him in response._

Ever since that day, the three of us had been fast friends. We spent a lot of our free time together. She was even there when Megatron and I spoke to the council of Primes. She had always been there for us.

_**My only regret was that I wasn’t always there for her.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that is the end of the second chapter! Only eleven pages too! Not bad, am I right? We've learned more about Whiteout and Optimus here, but who was the voice in the scrapyard? Guess you'll have to wait to find out! 
> 
> See ya 'round!
> 
> \- Whiteout


	3. Choose Your Death: Lab Explosion or Decepticon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out who threatened Whiteout in the Junkyard and introduce a new character at the same time! We also get to see how Whiteout's project went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Whiteout here! (The Author, not the Pred, though she might show up here if you want her to.) It seems that I have ~~a fan~~ _**MULTIPLE FANS**_! _Four_ Kudos and a comment with only 47 hits isn't too shabby in my opinion! (I love hearing from my readers and talking to them, so the more feedback I get, the more I want to write. Just saying.) I'm glad people like Whiteout and her story! 
> 
> Now, I don't think you guys came here to listen to me yak all day, so here's the chapter! 
> 
> Happy reading!

**Whiteout’s POV**

We finally finished the prototype. 

Ratchet’s not thrilled about testing it on Bee, but as there was no other way to prove it was safe, so he went along with it. 

We called in Bee, who was hesitant at first, asking, **_What is that?_**

"This might be the solution to your speaking problems," I smiled. 

He looked at me in surprise, then looked at the contraption.

It actually looked like a bomb or something similar, so I wasn't surprised that he was reluctant to try it, but I was 99% sure it was safe to use. 

We attached the cords that were hooked to the vibration converter to his windshield and told him to speak. 

"Like... this?" he asked, a growly voice coming out through the device. 

I winced. That wasn't right, but Bee didn't really care. 

"I... I can talk!! This is amazing!!" He tried to get up so he could go show the others, but I pushed him back down again. 

"Don't move too much, or it might explode. Besides, I need to make some adjustments." I turned to Ratchet. "Do you mind?" 

"... Sure? What do you intend to do?" Ratchet asked suspiciously.

"Scan you," I said before I scanning his chest without waiting for a reply. 

I then saw exactly how the traditional Cybertronian voice box worked, and why the voice the device was giving off was so husky. It wasn't an Autobot voice; it was one of a _Predacon_ voice box.

I grabbed a tool and began messing around with the prototype. "So that's why it sounds so weird. I based it off my voicebox, which has the energon fuel line connected directly to the vibration converter. Thing is, I'm a Predacon, so my inner makeup is a tiny bit different than you Autobots. In the traditional Cybertronian voice box, the main energon fuel line is connected to..." I said as I fixed my mistake, "the neural net receivers." I looked at Bumblebee. "Try it now." 

"Okay," he said in what I figured was his normal voice. His eyes lit up, and he dropped his mouthguard to reveal a huge smile on his face. "It... it works! I can talk!! And it even sounds like my normal voice!! Whiteout, you are a genius!!!!" He turned to the entrance of the room. "Raf!!" he called. "Come here!!"

The boy ran in, trying to figure out who had called him when he saw me, Ratchet, and Bumblebee sitting on the floor, Bee connected to a large boxy invention. 

"Who called me?" he asked, looking at the three of us before realizing the speaker before realization dawned in his eyes and he asked hesitantly, "Bee?" 

"What do you think? Whiteout made it for me. Apparently, it's too unstable for me to move around much, but at least I can talk, right?" the scout said, his smile lighting up his face and spreading to his eyes. He looked actually happy, I noted. Perhaps he had been missing being able to talk. 

"That's incredible!" Raf said, studying the device. "How does it work?" He began to feel the surface, but I pushed him back, not wanting it to blow up in his face. 

"Don't touch. It's not ready for everyday use," I told him. "I need to retune the calibrations, make sure the energon line is securely attached and installed properly, and a dozen other innovations before it can be used as a normal voice box. I also want to try to make it smaller and less bulky so that it fits in a small storage compartment. In fact, I should probably disconnect Bumblebee now."

"Allow me," the scout said, pulling on the cables. 

"Don't!!" I cried, but it was too late. 

The contraption blew up in his face, getting soot everywhere and vaporizing the entire machine. 

Bumblebee blinked in surprise, his face painted black with ash, before laughing a whirring laugh.

Seeing that no one was harmed, I mock-scolded him, saying as I wagged a finger at him disapprovingly, "I told you not to pull on those," before laughing myself. _At least he took it lightly,_ I thought.

 ** _Sorry,_** he said with an apologetic smile before raising his mouth guard again. **_That was my fault. I should have listened to your warning._**

I waved it off. "It's okay. I should have told you that might happen. At least it worked for a little while." 

**_I didn't mean to break your machine._ **

"Oh, you did more than just break it. You vaporized it," I laughed. "It's fine. I'll just go back to the scrapyard. Maybe that girl can help me find more parts." 

"What girl?" said Optimus' voice from the doorway. 

I turned, standing up to face him. "There was a girl at the scrapyard. At first, she didn't trust me, but then we talked, and then she was totally willing to help me out with what I was looking for." 

"Take me to her. We need to speak with her," he told me. I could hear a hint of alarm in his voice that most others would not. I had learned to read his emotions from years of being around him. 

"Why?" I didn't understand why he was so panicked. 

"Anyone the Decepticons perceive as our ally is in grave danger." 

Ah. I understood. He was worried the Cons would target the girl for being with me. He wanted to be able to protect her. I could go with this. "Alright. Are you sure you can keep up with me?" 

"How far did you go?" 

"About 50 miles northeast." 

He thought about that. "I do not want to scare the locals by using the Ground Bridge."

"You don't have to worry about that. The scrapyard is out in the middle of nowhere, and only the girl and her uncle live there, according to her. Feel free to bridge out if you want to. I think I'll run there. It's much more enjoyable." 

"Then I will drive," he decided before turning to Ratchet. "Will you watch the base while we are gone?" 

"Of course, Optimus. Just please don't bring in another human. Three is enough," he pleaded before picking up his tools and walking back to his place at the console. 

I raised an eyebrow, asking Optimus the silent question of, _What's his problem with humans?_

"He finds them irritating to have around the base," Optimus explained.

"Ah. I see," I said, wondering why the medic hated the little people so much. All I had seen of them was fun! I would have to investigate that later.

Optimus walked into the main room while I grabbed my hookup trailer. On the bed, a cube of energon lay under a tarp, concealed. 

Optimus raised an eyebrow at me, not quite sure what I was bringing along. 

"She asked her to bring her something. I'm going to keep my word," I told him, deflecting the question. The girl's secrets were hers to share, not mine. She could tell Optimus if she wanted to, and if she didn't, then I wouldn't say anything about it.

We walked to the entrance of the base before transforming, Optimus into the red and blue semi-truck, me into a winged white fox, and starting off for the scrapyard. 

While we ran, I remembered what had happened the last time I went to the scrapyard, after I heard her voice for the first time...

* * *

**_Flashback_ **

A voice had come from behind me, saying, "You had better be friendly, or you’re going to see what metal tastes like."

I turned around to find another one of those little people from the base that the bots had been trying to protect, though not one I recognized. I raised an eyebrow at her before looking closer, studying the small creature. I was intrigued. I still had yet to learn anything about them.

She was a blonde-haired girl with blue eyes and Caucasian skin holding up a gun. She wore a blue t-shirt and black jeans over blue sneakers. The shirt was covered in motor oil, telling me that she knew her way around a vehicle. The determined look in her energon-blue eyes told me she wasn't bluffing about her threat. She was ready to shoot that thing if she had to. Fortunately for me, I looked it over briefly and concluded that it wouldn't do much to me if she actually did. 

I poked her chest, curious about her, which made her back up a few steps. 

"I'm warning you. This is loaded," she threatened. 

I ignored the threat and asked her, "What are you?" After all, I had yet to find a name for the strange little people.

"I'm human, and you," she said, lowering the gun slightly, "are definitely not. What are you? What do you want?" 

"I am a Predacon from Cybertron. My name is Whiteout."

She lowered the gun completely, letting it drop by her side. "You're a _what_?" she asked in surprise.

"A Predacon. It's a—"

"I know what that is," she interrupted irritably. "I thought those were extinct." 

"They are. I'm what is considered a clone, though an experiment gave me a spark," I said immediately out of habit. Then I remembered who I was talking to. "... How do you know what a Predacon is?" 

She holstered the gun, and it disappeared, to my surprise. "There's a lot I know about Cybertron," she said simply, still on guard. 

I looked at her, shocked, then scanned her as I had Ratchet. 

"Hey! What are you doing?!" she asked angrily, but I ignored her as I looked over my findings in intrigue. 

A digital blueprint of her appeared in my mind. Most of her was organic flesh and blood, what I guessed was normal for her species. But there was also something more. Her left leg up to her knee, her right foot up to halfway up her thigh, her right arm to her shoulder, her left arm to her elbow, her eyes, an unknown object in her chest, and something attached to her back...

**They were all made of _Cybertronian alloy_. **

And that wasn't all. Oh, no. The gun she had 'holstered' was actually her hand transformed under a very high-tech holoform. And all of her bodily fluids were mixed with high amounts of energon, the Cybertronian fuel source making up about half of the liquid in her... they weren't exactly tubes like Cybertronians had, but I didn't know what else to call them. Energon and another liquid that alternated red and blue depending on the amount of O2 in it flowed through the 'tubes' to all the different parts of her body. I had yet to scan any other humans on this planet but I had a feeling that this wasn't normal for them.

"What happened to you?" I asked curiously. I wanted to know everything I could about her. 

"What do you mean?" she replied, suddenly wary, maybe even afraid. 

_Why is she hiding?_ I wondered. 

"You're half-Cybertronian," I stated, explaining my need to ask such a question.

"W-what?!" she asked, flustered. "W-where did you get that idea?"

 _Besides the way you just said that?_ I thought ruefully, but I kept that to myself. "Your limbs are made of Cybertronian alloy, along with your optics and something on your back and in your chest," I explained; "not to mention the Energon flowing through your veins. I don't know what you call it on your planet, but where I come from they call that being half-Cybertronian."

She looked away, shame covering her face. She sighed. "Not many people know about that, and almost no one sees it. You must be talented," she said quietly. 

I waited for her to continue, sitting down in front of her. I wasn't leaving until I got the whole story.

"When I was younger, I was in an accident," she began. "Both of my parents died. After I was found at the crash site, I was taken to the hospital, where I was condemned to a wheelchair for life. My limbs were damaged almost beyond repair, and my heart was even worse. I was never to walk again."

"'Heart'?" I repeated, not knowing what that was.

She sighed again. "You really know nothing about this world, do you?" she asked before explaining it to me. "A heart is an organ that most animals have that pumps blood—a red or blue bodily fluid that transports nutrients like oxygen through tubes called veins or arteries—all over the body. Without it, the animal will die because it wouldn't get the oxygen it needed to survive." 

I nodded. So it was sort of like a spark chamber for humans, and blood was their energon. I could work with that.

She continued, "Once I was out of the hospital, I was placed in orphanages all over the country until I was found by a secret organization who adopted me and took me to a lab where they replaced the damaged parts of my body with parts of a metal being that they called a Cybertronian. At first, I was thrilled. I was able to walk again! But then I began figuring out what they wanted to do. They wanted to use me as a weapon to help them take over the world. After I figured out how to use my new additions, I got away and met a Cybertronian who told me about his homeworld and the war that went on there. Soon after I met him, he was killed by a group of Cybertronians that he called the _Decepticons_. I ran off and found my uncle, and I've been living here ever since. I was afraid you might be a Con, so I pulled out one of my Cybertronian guns, my only defense that I _actually_ know how to use." 

I nodded and smiled. Now it all made sense. "I promise you, I am no Con," I told her. "I am allied with a group called the Autobots... sort of. The only one of them who isn't absolutely terrified of me is Optimus Prime, and that's because I knew him from before the war." 

"Why are they scared of you?" she asked curiously.

I looked away. "Besides the fact that I'm a Predacon, a species that used to be the apex predators of Cybertron and absolute killing machines? Well, when I get scared or upset, my colors turn red and black, and I get really violent. It's a sort of defense mechanism for me that triggers when I am scared. They cornered me with guns and I couldn't stop it. If Optimus hadn't been there to stop me... I would have never forgiven myself." 

"Basically, you warned them, but they didn't listen to the warning," she summarized with a smirk. 

"Yeah," I agreed sadly. "I don't know how to control it."

"That makes two of us."

We sat there for a minute, thinking. 

"What are you doing here?" she asked me. 

"Well, I originally came out here to cool off away from the others, but I _am_ an inventor, an engineer, and a medic, and as all my patients and inventions and projects would be made of metal..." I trailed off, knowing she got the idea.

"You need scrap metal to fix them," she finished for me with a smile. "I can help you with that." She stood up and led me down an aisle to a large pile of what looked like Cybertronian tech. "Take your pick," she told me. 

I looked at her, then at the pile of metal, then back at her. That was a lot of Cybertronian tech for a little human to have. "Where did you get all this stuff?" I asked.

"Here and there," she said offhandedly with a shrug. "You'd be surprised what you can find at the old sites of Cybertronian warfare."

"All right." I looked around and grabbed everything I would need to complete my project: building a Cybertronian voice box. 

When I was sure I had grabbed everything, the girl helped me find a trailer to carry it all. 

"Thanks," I told her. I hooked up to the trailer and looked at her. "Is there anything I can do for you?" I asked.

She looked away. "I wouldn't want to burden you." 

"Come on," I said. "You helped me. What can I do for you?" 

"Well, I _am_ running low on energon. If you could get me some, that would be amazing," she smiled shyly. 

"Ah. So you **do** need energon for your Cybertronian parts. I was wondering about that." 

"Yep. I haven't found any for a while, and my stores are getting to an all-time low. So if you could find a way to get me some, even just a little, I would be forever in your debt. After all, I don't want to offline," she said. 

I nodded. "I'll see what I can do."

And then I ran back to the Autobot base to start on my work, the whole way wondering who that girl really was.

**And why she was hiding from the world.**

* * *

When we arrived, I knew the girl working on a project. How did I know? I could hear the clang of metal on metal ringing through the scrapyard.

I halted in front of the scrapyard, grabbed the energon cube while making sure to keep it wrapped up securely in the tarp, and told Optimus to wait. 

"Last time, she pulled a gun on me," I explained. "Just stay here until I explain what is going on, okay?" I did not want to have the Prime offlined by a startled half-Cybertronian.

"Alright, just be careful," he agreed. 

"I will," I promised, then jumped the wall into the scrapyard. 

I found her right where I had left her, working on the motorcycle I had begun to fix on my last visit. It looked like Arcee, but with a more primal look, almost like a canine. I liked it the second I saw it, and it looked even better now. 

After a moment's debate with myself, I sneaked up behind her and said, "Hope you're friendly."

She nearly jumped a foot in the air, dropping her tools, before turning around and realizing it was me.

"Geez, Whiteout," she breathed. "Give me more warning next time." 

"Sorry... I never did get your name." 

"Palmyra. Palmyra Alinamo, but my friends call me Gadget," she said as she picked up her scattered tools.

"Gadget," I said, letting the syllables roll around in my mouth. "I like it! Oh! And I have something for you," I told her as I pulled the cube of energon out from under the tarp. 

Her eyes widened at the cube of Energon that was only a little shorter than her. "... Wow. That's... so much! I can't accept it." 

"Well, I'm not taking it back," I said. "It's all yours." 

"Thank you!" she grinned, a true smile on her face. I liked that smile, I decided. I was going to everything in my power to help it show up as often as she would allow.

"I have a feeling that you want to keep your Cybertronian status a secret, right?" I asked as I picked up the cube again. I doubted she wanted it just lying out in the open, and she most likely couldn't lift it unless her Cybertronian limbs gave her extra strength, which was completely plausible, knowing her.

"Yeah. I heard you and your friend drive up. Well, I heard them drive up. You're pretty stealthy on your paws," she said with a hand on her hip. 

"Then let's get this out of the open so I can let Optimus in to meet you," I proposed, referring to the cube in my hand. 

"Agreed."

We placed the energon in a special shack that Gadget used for the exact purpose of storing energon, and I went to tell Optimus to come in.

* * *

**Optimus Prime's POV**

It was about ten minutes after we arrived when Whiteout came to get me. 

"She'll see you now. We had to take care of something first," she said, the tarp she brought folded under her right arm. She placed it on the trailer before turning back to me. "Don't worry about making noise. According to Gadget, her uncle sleeps a lot and is really hard to wake up. One of the perks of living in a scrapyard, I guess." 

My Predacon friend guided me through rows of shelves holding thousands of little trinkets to the automobile section where a blonde human girl sat waiting. The girl seemed to be stronger than she looked, and the look of dedication in her energon-blue eyes was remarkable. This was a fighter, someone who had stood in the face of adversity and survived. I found that admirable.

"You must be Optimus Prime," she said nonchalantly. "I've heard a lot about you. You are the last of the Primes." 

I must say, I was surprised to hear her say that. How did she know that? Did Whiteout tell her? The slight look of surprise on my friend's face told me that she hadn't. This couldn't have been the girl's first encounter with Cybertronians, but just how much she knew about us was to be determined.

"Yes, I am," I confirmed. "And you are?"

"Palmyra Alinamo, but my friends call me Gadget," she said politely. "Pleased to meet you, Prime." 

"Thank you, Palmyra. There is something you need to know—" I began, but she interrupted me.

"You want me to hang with your crowd so you can protect me from Decepticons." She put her hands on her hips, a knowing smile on her face. "Am I right?" 

I stood there, stunned and in disbelief. It was as if she knew what I was going to say before I even said it!

“Yes,” I began, but she spoke again. 

“I’ll go as long as I can bring my laptop and my toolbox.” She turned to Whiteout. “I made something for you.” 

Whiteout’s tail began swishing back and forth behind her, showing her excitement. "Really?! What is it?" she asked, a huge grin on her face.

She pulled over a motorcycle. It looked similar to Arcee's vehicle form, but with a more canine look, almost like Whiteout's primal form. 

"I know you Cybertronians can scan vehicles, and I get you're a Predacon, but have you ever tried scanning a vehicle form?" she asked curiously. "It should make it easier to pull that trailer of yours."

Whiteout seemed to think about that for a moment. No one knew if Predacons could scan other forms. It just hadn't been done before. "Alright," she said slowly, making her decision. "I will try it." 

She got down on one knee, and her eyes lit up, scanning the vehicle. She then transformed into the motorcycle, her wings turning into the axles, her hands and feet holding the wheels in place, her tail becoming the back of the seat. You could clearly see the fox in it. _It fits her perfectly,_ I thought.

Her headlights lit up as she spoke. "This is amazing!! Is this how you guys feel all the time?!" she asked as she jerked forward before coming to a stop. "Oops! I need to figure out how to work this thing," she said a bit apologetically. 

"It's all-electric, so it's eco-friendly, which I thought you'd like. It also has storage compartments to store your blades built-in," Palmyra told her, a proud smile on her face as she watched Whiteout play with her controls. "It has a radio that's connected via Bluetooth to my phone, because I'm figuring you'll like my playlist, and also connects to my headphones so that we can listen to music together, and the speed to match your fox form, which I'm guessing is pretty fast. That part was the trickiest, trying to match the torque and design, along with the engine, to match your traditional aerodynamics as a fox." 

"I love it!! Thank you, Gadget!!" Whiteout cried, driving in circles in her excitement. Then she stopped in front of the girl. "Do you want to ride me back to base?" she asked excitedly.

"I have a feeling I'd be safer with the semi." She pointed at me. "At least until you learn how to drive properly." 

Whiteout's frame sunk a little closer to the ground as she processed that. "Oh, okay." 

"Then again," I began, seeing my friend's sadness, "what better way to learn to drive than with a human rider? I'm not sure she'll follow the speed limit otherwise." 

"That is true," Palmyra said, considering my words. "All right. I will ride with you, Whiteout. That way, you don't get a ticket." 

"Yay!!" She did a wheelie before realizing she was being really silly. "I mean, sure, you can ride with me." 

"Drop the act," Gadget chastised her with a smile, straddling the motorcycle after putting on a blue and yellow motorcycle helmet from a nearby work station. "I know you're excited. I am totally okay with that." 

"Thanks! Let's go!" 

And we drove back to base after she hooked up to her trailer. I have to admit, I had a bit of trouble keeping up with Whiteout in her new form. But the important thing was...

**_She loved it._ **

* * *

**Gadget's POV**

You're probably wondering why I didn't tell the Prime what I am. No doubt you're yelling at your screen, scolding me for keeping that big of a secret. Thing is, I didn't trust them yet. The only reason Whiteout knows is that she scanned me, so that doesn't really count. The fact that she didn't tell Optimus does help, along with the giant energon cube. (Seriously. That thing is going to keep me fulled for _years_ if I'm good with how I use it, maybe even _decades_!) I guess she felt that was for me to tell. 

When we drove into the Autobot base, I was amazed. The engineering that must have gone into this place was been incredible! I couldn't _wait_ to look around it and delve into the intricate workings of the tech. It looked awesome!

But even more intriguing were the Autobots. You have to remember, I've only seen a few Cybertronians despite what I am, so the six giant mechanical men were awe-inspiring. 

The first one I saw beside the Prime and Whiteout was a grumpy orange-and-white one standing in front of a huge computer, probably the main console for the whole base. He took one look at me riding in on Whiteout before turning back to the screens, muttering darkly to himself. I got the feeling that he wasn't fond of humans. 

Whiteout pulled to a stop and let me off before unhooking her trailer and transforming back into a bot. She then walked over to the grumpy bot. 

"Hello, Ratchet. What are you working on?" she asked, peeking over his shoulder. 

He jumped, slightly startled, before turning around to face her, confusion and shock clear on his face. "Whiteout?" he asked. "When did you get back?" 

Now it was Whiteout's turn to be confused. "What do you mean? I just drove in." 

His optics widened. " _Drove_?! Don't you mean walked? Or ran? Or that _trotting_ thing you do?" 

"Nope. Drove. It seems I can scan a vehicle form." Her expression was pretty sheepish. "Surprise." 

Ratchet blinked a few times, processing this before exclaiming, "But you're a Predacon!! That shouldn't be possible!" 

She sighed. "Well, you see, my creator kind of messed with my CNA so that I would blend into normal Cybertronian society easier. Also, it's never been proven that Predacons couldn't scan other forms. We just don't know." 

"What do we not know again?" asked a deep male voice from the other side of the room. 

I turned to see a giant green bot come in alongside a yellow and black one and a navy and pink one. At their heels were three kids. 

It was the green one who spoke. He had a girl with black and pink hair on his shoulder, rocking out to something on her headphones, still completely oblivious to my arrival. 

"Apparently our Predacon friend here can scan a vehicle form," Ratchet said, gesturing to Whiteout. 

Whiteout waved sheepishly. I knew from her actions she didn't like to be the complete center of attention. She'd much rather let someone else take the spotlight. Perhaps it reminded her too much of a science lab or zoo, or whatever they have for those on Cybertron. She didn't want to be the odd one out. 

"Yep. That's me. The Predacon wonder," she said lightly, but I knew that inside she hated this. 

Then the yellow and black bot began... _beeping_ , I guess? Maybe he couldn't talk. It didn't matter, because I knew what he said. _**Well, show us your vehicle form! I can't wait to see what it is,**_ he told her, excitement showing in his optics.

She transformed to reveal the motorcycle to everyone. 

The navy blue one raised an eyebrow. "That looks like me," she said suspiciously. 

Her frame sunk a little, something I had figured out to be equivalent to a dog holding their ears close to their head for her, before driving next to me. "Gadget fixed it up for me," she said, trying to get the attention off herself by putting me in the spotlight. 

I waved. "Hi." 

"That's not a very human name," the navy blue one said. She seemed very suspicious of me _and_ Whiteout. Perhaps she had trust issues? 

"It's a nickname. My real name is Palmyra Alinamo, but my friends call me Gadget," I explained. I now understood why Whiteout didn't like being the center of attention. These guys were intimidating!

The yellow and black bot got down on one knee so he could see me better. _**So you're the one who gave Whiteout the materials for her project. I thank you for that.**_

"Uh, you're welcome?" I said, not quite sure what he was talking about.

The short boy who was with him gasped. "You can understand him too?" he asked excitedly. 

I shrugged. "Yeah? Why wouldn't I be able to?" I asked curiously. 

"It's just most people can't," he replied. "I can, but no other human who's met him can understand a word he says! The fact that you can hear what he's saying is super cool!"

"Cool!" exclaimed the pink-haired girl, finally realizing what was going on and letting the giant green bot help her off his shoulder before rushing over to study me. "A new girl in the band! This is totally rad!" 

"Band?" I looked at Whiteout, who shrugged. 

Optimus finally interrupted, gently picking me up and putting me on a platform so everyone could see me. The kids climbed up the stairs to stand next to me.

"Perhaps," he said, "we should introduce ourselves to our new companion so she can introduce herself to us."

 **_Apologies. I am Bumblebee, the team scout,_** said the yellow-and-black one.

The green bot stepped forward. "I'm Bulkhead." 

The navy blue one, the only other female bot, introduced herself next. "I am Arcee." 

Ratchet grunted and turned back to the console. 

"That's Ratchet," Bulkhead said lightheartedly. "He's not a huge fan of humans."

"I noticed," I said, watching Ratchet work on the console. Perhaps if I could get to know him better... 

My thought was interrupted by the pink-haired girl. "I'm Miko! You look really cool." 

"... Thanks?" I could already tell that Miko was a bit of a spaz. 

The tall boy waved. "I'm Jack." He seemed to be the most mature of the group. I would soon change that. 

The short boy in the glasses who could speak to the scout spoke up. "I'm Rafael, but you can call me Raf. It's nice to meet you!" 

I nodded, before introducing myself; "I'm Palmyra Alinamo, but you can call me Gadget. I live in a scrapyard. I'm good with machines and tools. This isn't my first encounter with Cybertronians. I—" 

"Wait," Ratchet said, turning to me. "You've seen Cybertronians before?" 

"I met a mech once who explained just about everything about you guys and the war you're fighting before he was brutally murdered by Decepticons," I stated. "I... don't really want to talk about it." Ever.

Ratchet blinked a few times, processing this. "Wow. Why haven't you gone looking for other Cybertronians?" he asked.

I shrugged. "I figured it was probably too dangerous," I replied. "And besides, you guys don't really want to be found in the first place." 

"True," he allowed, looking at me with a newfound interest. I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. 

I continued. "I help my uncle work at the scrapyard as he mostly sleeps. I finished my schooling three years ago, and so I mostly hang out at home. I don't really have any real friends." 

Optimus looked at me, surprised. "How old are you?" 

"Fourteen," I replied. "I'm a little short for my age." 

"How have you finished your schooling if you are only 14 years old?" he asked.

I shrugged again. _Why are these bots so nosy?_ I thought. "I aced my tests throughout my early years, so they had to keep moving me up. Eventually, they ran out of things to place me in, so I graduated. I loved auto-shop though. That was probably one of my best classes." _There. That should deflect them._ "And that's about it."

He looked at me for a moment, studying me, before saying in an authoritative tone, "It seems we have a new human ally who needs a guardian." He turned to the Predacon, who had shifted out of the motorcycle and back into the giant robot. "Whiteout, would you watch over Palmyra?" he asked.

Her face lit up with a huge smile. "And get to stay at the scrapyard?! Uh, _yes!!_ " She looked at me. "As long as Gadget's okay with that," she amended. 

I shrugged, a smile on my face. "Sure. That'd be great." 

Optimus nodded. "Then feel free to roam about the base, Palmyra. Autobots, at ease." 

Everyone went back to what they were doing previously. Whiteout went to a room in the back with Optimus, no doubt discussing me.

There was nothing I could really do about that. Besides, I had a mission to complete. 

I walked over to Ratchet and watched him work. While he was pounding away on the keyboard, error popups filled the screen. He hit the nearby balcony in frustration, muttering about this stupid human technology. 

"Here. Let me help," I said. I pulled out my computer and scanned the makeup of the console. It was really advanced, but there was something out of place.

I looked up, and Ratchet was watching expectantly as if he was waiting for me to say something. My guess was that Raf was also good with computers, as he was fiddling with his on the couch, and Ratchet had learned to wait for us to do something before judging too harshly.

"Try inputting the ground bridge transmitter into the main USB port," I told him, "and plugging the CPU's secondary processing unit into the global positioning system, then connecting the satellite to the primary data conversion station, before running a full system self-diagnostic. That should fix the problem, which looks like a disconnected cable or a CPU malfunction." 

He did as I said, and the console began working even better than before. He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “How did you know that would work?” 

There he was, being nosy. I didn’t quite trust him yet, so I just said, “Lucky guess?” 

He barked out a laugh. “‘Lucky guess?’ That was more than luck. This is partially Cybertronian technology! Only a master engineer would know how to fix it from just a scan!” A slight smile slipped through his disbelief. “Who are you, Pal—I mean, Gadget? What universe did you fall out of?” 

I looked away. He was so close to getting to the truth. “School?” I tried. 

He smiled. “Then that school of yours is brilliant!” 

“Most kids hate it,” I told him. 

“Do you? I mean—” he fumbled over his words “—did you?” 

“I did. I thought it was fun but short,” I said, remembering my school days. 

“That’s good. Education is important.” He turned back to the console before gruffly saying, “Thank you.” 

I smiled. I was beginning to believe that these bots were trustworthy. It might take a while, but I would eventually tell them about my Cybertronian parts. 

But there was one secret I would keep to myself, one that could potentially tip the balance, but that would be saved until the time was right to reveal my true primal side. 

Whiteout, my dear, sweet sister, oh how I wish I could tell you now, but soon the day will come when I will be needed.

And on that day, I will be restored... 

**To my former Predacon glory.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And THAT is the end of Chapter III! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it! 
> 
> On another note, Gadget is an interesting character, isn't she? I wonder what she means by her statement at the end about her true Predacon glory! I guess we'll just have to wait and see... 
> 
> In the meantime, feel free to subscribe to this book if you're new to get news about more updates, bookmark your favorite sections, leave Kudos if you really liked it, and please leave a comment about what you think in the comment section below. I LOVE getting feedback and talking to you guys, so please tell me what you think in that comment section. I _WILL_ answer all comments as soon as I see them! 
> 
> ~~(Wow. That felt like I was outroing a YouTube video. XD)~~
> 
> See you around!


	4. The Arctic Adventure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whiteout learns about snow... and danger...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a version of the episode of Transformers: Prime "Scrapheap" with Gadget and Whiteout involved, so it might be slightly different from the original, which is totally okay.
> 
> Enjoy. 

**Whiteout's POV**

Today, I found something AMAZING. Let me back up a bit. 

So I was helping Ratchet with a project (Gadget was home helping her uncle) when Optimus asked if I wanted to go on Arctic exploration duty with Bulkhead and Bumblebee. 

I looked at him, puzzled, but I agreed, figuring it would be an adventure. I followed him into the main room, where Bee and Bulk were waiting for Ratchet to do... something. I wasn't quite sure what it was, but, as you can tell, I'm a very excitable bot. I didn't know what "arctic" meant, so when I saw the open ground-bridge and Ratchet fussing over the two other bots, it made me intrigued. 

"May I join?" I had asked, walking over to stand next to Bee. 

"Are you sure, Whiteout?" Bulkhead asked me. "The temperatures and weather there are a bit"

" _Absolutely not!"_ Ratchet cut him off. "We're already taking an extreme risk in sending Bulkhead and Bumblebee there ** _ **—**_** we do not need someone who is weaker and less capable of handling the harsh conditions, who of which is completely unnecessary, tagging along!"

"I can handle myself, Ratchet," I said. 

The grumpy medic began to rant on about the thousands of things that could go wrong, and reasons why I shouldn't go. I rolled my eyes, trying to hold back a huff. I was getting tired of all the baby treatment I had been receiving since I arrived ** _ **—**_** of course, once the Autobots felt comfortable turning their backs to me. Didn't they know I could take care of myself just fine? I'm a grown Cybertronian, not a sparkling!

As Ratchet continued to point out all of the faults in my build and how I couldn't handle the temperatures, I suddenly registered that there was an open ground-bridge leading directly to the place right in front of me. 

I began to contemplate whether I should just dive through or not. Sure, that seemed like a pretty irresponsible thing to do, but I was so curious to see what the Autobots were playing off to be so dangerous that I couldn't help myself. 

I took a quick glance up a Ratchet, who was too sucked into his ramble to notice me (by now he had moved off why I couldn't go and was continuing to make everyone else want to cut off their ears by chewing us out of all the things we do that annoy him), and gave a sly smirk as I silently slipped away, darting through the green portal. 

(This next part Optimus told me about.)

"...and we'd end up having to amputate all of your limbs, which would be a disaster!" Ratchet finished. "So, _there!_ You cannot go to ** _ **—**_** "

He looked down as well as the rest of the team when receiving no response from me, since I was long gone, and began looking around. 

"Where'd she go?!" Ratchet looked to Optimus, who looked to the ground-bridge.

The medic read his body language. "What?! You think she went ** _ **—**_** Pfft. Honestly. Does anyone on this team have a brain in their heads? Running around, willy-nilly..."

Ratchet walked back off to his computers, grumbling away.

"We'll go get her, boss," Bulkhead said to Optimus, gesturing to himself and Bumblebee. 

"Thank you, Bulkhead," he nodded as the Wrecker and scout ran into the ground-bridge. 

"Whiteout?! Whiteout, where are you?" Bulkhead called as they entered through. 

**_Whiteout?_** Bumblebee also beeped for me, looking around. 

"Where do you think-"

"WOO-HOO!"

The two Autobots snapped their heads towards my loud, happy cry, watching myself jump out from a large pile of the fluffy, white fun in my fox form before transforming into a bot.

"What is this stuff?!" I asked with a giggle, tossing some of it into the air and shaking the rest off like a fox. 

It was such a simple yet mysterious thing ** _ **—**_** the stuff was like tiny white raindrops gracefully flying down in the frigid winds, swaying side to side as it searched for its place to rest. As soon as it would touch me, it momentarily would appear as a beautiful shape, each one more diverse and interesting than the last. Then it would disappear, the only thing proving it ever existed being a small little drop of water of which it melted into. 

It would almost feel like a nip, a tingly sensation on my metal as the tiny, fluffy drop would melt and nearly completely vanish. 

"Are you hurt?" Bulkhead inquired in a worried way, making me pull my fascinated eyes away from the speck which had landed on my hand. 

"No, I'm fine! But this stuff is so amazing!" I laughed. 

**_That's snow,_** Bumblebee beeped. **_And it's_ really _cold!_**

"I don't feel cold," I answered, raising an eyebrow before gleefully tossing up another handful of the "snow" in the air.

I got down on the ground, transforming into a fox in the process, and rolled around in the beautiful, white dust. Giggling away as I buried myself in it, with Bumblebee and Bulkhead chuckling at my childish behavior. 

"Sorry to kill your fun, Whiteout, but doc and boss say we have to bring you back to base," Bulkhead pointed behind his shoulder with his thumb at the open ground-bridge. 

"Oh," I said sadly, having to force myself to get up from the sparkly blanket. "Is there no way I can stay? I promise to be careful. And if I get cold, I will let you know so you can bridge me back."

"It's really extreme here," he sighed. "It wouldn't be healthy for you. You could... well..." Bulkhead looked over at Bumblebee for support, who just shrugged. 

"Well, I'm staying with the snow," I announced, giving a child-like pout as I crumpled back down into it, landing on my back and staring at the sky as more fell down and landed on my muzzle. 

"Whiteout, please?" Bulkhead pleaded. "Tell you what, if you come back with us, we'll ask Ratchet if you could come with us on our search."

At that, I raised an ear before scrambling up. "Really?"

"Yeah. Come on," he pointed to the ground-bridge again, coming over and gently pushing my back, ushering me towards it. 

I transformed into a bot again. "Goodbye, beautiful wonderland of snow," I said, giving a dramatic, depressed wave as I disappeared into the portal.

As I stepped through with the two Autobots at my side, everyone came rushing over and crowding around me.

"What were you thinking, Whiteout?!" Ratchet scolded, marching up to me with his arms crossed and a wrench in his hand. I looked at it, wondering if he was going to repeat the incident from my arrival with OP the first time.

"I'm thinking that I _LOVE_ that stuff!" I cried out, bouncing, my tail swinging rapidly behind me. 

"No, I said 'what _were_ you thinking' not now, I didn't mean ** _ **—**_** NEVERMIND!" Ratchet stammered, shaking his head at himself. "You could have got hurt! Then what would we do?"

"I'm not going to get hurt, Ratchet," I said softly. "I know you're just looking out for me, but you're going a little..." I waved my hand in the air, kind of like in a 50\50 gesture, looking for a good word. "Overboard."

"Our apologies, Whiteout," Optimus stepped forward towards me. "We did not mean to make you feel..."

And for once, the Prime lost his words. 

"It's okay," I smiled at him. "So... can I go with Bumblebee and Bulkhead?"

Ratchet gave me a look, before scoffing and giving in. "Fine, fine. But let me look you over first."

"All right." 

He grabbed a scanner and checked me over. He looked at me, shock in his optics. "Incredible!" 

"What?" I asked.

"You haven't sustained any damage from the cold temperatures! That's... impossible." He thought for a second, before telling me to take my fox form so he could study it. 

I landed on four paws and sat down in front of him like a... not a trained dog. Never a dog. I am a fox, thank you very much. 

He ran his digits over my mesh, a look of wonder on his face. 

"You have... fur?" 

"What is fur?" I asked. 

"It's a covering some Earth animals have that protects them from the climate," he explained. "It's a kind of natural insulation, and you are covered in it, though it seems to be made of flexible plastic or metal in your case. You are completely immune to the freezing effects of the icy north." 

"That's... incredible," Optimus said, placing a servo on my fox shoulder. "Whiteout, that's amazing!" 

"So... can I go?" I asked Ratchet hesitantly. 

"I don't see why not! Go ahead, our arctic friend. Explore the great unknown, and all that."

"Thank you!! You don't know how happy this makes me!" I exclaimed enthusiastically,. "Now come on, you slowpokes!! It's exploration time!!" I yelled at Bee and Bulkhead, already running back through the bridge in fox form before anyone could even say **'Whiteout'**.

Back into the great beyond.

* * *

 ** _Ugh, Bulk, are we there yet? It's so cold here!_** Bee beeped, holding out his arms in front of his face to shield the snow and wind.

"It's not cold, Bee!" I chuckled, promptly diving headfirst into the snow and bouncing back up, shaking it off with a laugh. My fox form and its 'fur' was perfect for this place.

"No, we're not there yet. But it should be just past this ridge, Bumblebee," Bulkhead answered, shaking the detector he was holding. 

The others slid down an ice ridge and landed at the bottom with a large thump, while I nimbly bounded down the ridge. I love having serrated claws.

"I don't get it. These readings are off the meter!" Bulkhead exclaimed, shaking the detector again. 

_**Woah, Bulkhead! Whiteout! Look at this!**_ Bee gestured for us to follow him and look at an enormous pod frozen solid and covered with snow. 

I transformed back into a bot and brushed the object off. "What is it?" I asked the others.

"I don't know. Time to comm the base," Bulkhead answered. "Base, this is Bulkhead. We found something."

I didn't pay attention to the reply. I was too busy studying the object.

There was a sort of malevolence radiating from it, but the feeling was muted as if the thing giving me the terrible feeling was still slumbering, slightly restless. I hesitantly laid my servo on the pod, trying to get a better reading of the object, and gasped. 

The _things_ inside this pod; they were _alive_ , and very hungry. I didn't want to see what they were hungry for. 

Bringing this back to base? Well, that just might spell doom for us all.

"Uh, guys?" I said, alarm in my tone.

Bumblebee looked over, wondering what was wrong. **_Yeah, Whiteout?_**

"We can't bring this back to base." 

"Why not?" Bulkhead asked. "It looks perfectly fine. This is the first find we've had in a while." Then he saw my terrified expression. "What's wrong?" 

"I... I don't know. This pod... it's almost as if it's alive, but something about it... it's evil, I guess is the best word for it." I looked at my hand, still on the pod. "I can feel it. There is something, no, some _things_ in it that... their only instinct is to feed. We can't bring it back to base. It's too dangerous." 

"Well, if it really is as dangerous as you say it is, we can't just leave it here for the Cons to find." 

**_Besides,_** Bee said, placing a servo on my shoulder, **_if we take it back, we can figure out what it is, and then destroy it **—** I mean, them. How does that sound? _**

My shoulders slumped, but I couldn't argue. I looked at the pod, still sensing the things inside and their insatiable hunger. 

"Very well. I will help you." I tried to lift up one side after we melted around the pod as the ground bridge opened, but Bulkhead and Bumblebee took care of it for me. 

I followed through after them, fearing for my friends' lives.

I already knew that we would regret this. Just how much though, I could only guess.

 _Oh, Primus,_ I thought bitterly as I passed through the bridge, _save us all. Save us from the darkness we foolishly brought into our hearts._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. My friend is helping me because she has a better knowledge of the episodes. She writes down the original episode and then I modify it to fit Whiteout and Gadget. 
> 
> This is the intro to the next update. Hopefully, you guys remember what happened in the episode I'm starting. It's one of my favorite episodes, by the way.
> 
> Don't forget to comment, and thank you for reading!!


End file.
